


Suddenly I'm Hit

by marryingthebed



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M, From Sex to Love, Kinda?, POV Sam Wilson, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, we just don't know
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-26
Updated: 2014-06-26
Packaged: 2018-02-06 07:29:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1849582
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marryingthebed/pseuds/marryingthebed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I broke my leg when I was ten,” Sam says, and immediately hates himself. </p><p>Because he’s got Natasha Romanoff, the freaking Black Widow, underneath him, red hair looking like fire against the blue of his SHIELD-issued sheets, and he’s going to tell her about Joseph Ludwig.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Suddenly I'm Hit

**Author's Note:**

> hey, so I guess I'm dusting off my ao3 account? I really dig Nat/Sam and there is not a lot of fic out there so I wrote one????
> 
> Title from "Retrograde" by James Blake why yes it is completely unrelated thanks for asking

“I broke my leg when I was ten,” Sam says, and immediately hates himself. 

Because he’s got Natasha Romanoff, the freaking _Black Widow_ , underneath him, red hair looking like fire against the blue of his SHIELD-issued sheets, and he’s going to tell her about Joseph Ludwig. 

Nat raises a perfectly manicured eyebrow and says “Really?” 

“Yeah, there was this kid, Joseph Ludwig, and we were trying to determine who was the coolest kid in our fifth grade class, so he dared me to jump into the shallow end of the pool and I did and, uh, it did not end well.” 

“Is everything fine now?”

“Well, I had to wear a cast for a long-ass time, but, yeah?” Natasha would definitely be the kind of person to leave a man half-hard because he managed to say something stupid before he even got her top off, Sam decides. 

But she just stays where she is, hands pressing into his shoulders, and says “So?”

And that’s the point where Sam’s brain just goes _fuck it_ and he kisses her, manages to lose himself completely in her body, the feel of her hips pressing into his and that tongue-sucking thing she does? Yeah, incredible, and his last coherent thought is that he’s having the best sex of his life, and it’s probably about ten times better than anything Joseph Ludwig could even _dream_ of. 

-

He wakes up and she’s gone.

Before Sam joined up, before he lost Riley, he had been no stranger to one-night stands. Hell, when he first got his uniform, first thing he did was go to the nearest bar and find some beautiful girl to get him out of it. 

Now, of course, things are different. Now, Sam looks at himself in the mirror every morning and thinks “You are a soldier.”

Natasha is not a soldier, or if she is, she’s not any type of soldier Sam’s seen before. Natasha is structure, an sense of order that he’s not used to finding in war or any other type of violence. He’s tempted to use all sorts of metaphors for her--a puzzle, a house of cards, an oil painting--but the thing about Nat is that underneath everything she still manages to be so _human_ , in a way that Sam can’t really decide is terrifying or endearing. 

Somehow, Sam knows that Natasha Romanoff will not be a one-night stand. 

-

The second time it happens he and Steve are looking for the Winter Solider ( _Bucky_ , Steve always corrects him, somehow managing to be both gentle and firm). Nat meets up with them in Utah to relay some information, the three of them sitting on the floor of Sam’s nasty little hotel room and going over Barnes’s files, over and over again, looking for patterns, the type of stuff that tends to put Sam to sleep. 

Eventually they’ve gone through everything at least five times and things are winding down when Nat looks up at Steve and says “Isn’t it past your bedtime, gramps?” 

Steve frowns, because while he may be the hero of the free world, Captain America still doesn’t seem to know a thing about sex. It takes several more comments from Nat, as well as Sam raising his eyebrows _very_ emphatically, before Steve’s bolting out of the room like a bat out of hell, the slightest of blushes visible on his cheeks. 

Sam’s kissing his way up the insides of Natasha’s thighs when it happens. “You know, in high school they called me the birdman?”

Nat doesn’t say anything for a moment, and Sam’s inwardly cursing himself again, but eventually she sighs. “Ok, I’ll bite.”

“Well, in eighth grade we went on a class trip to San Francisco, and toured Alcatraz, and apparently there was a prisoner there who was a total psychopath but really dug birds, so they called him the ‘Birdman of Alcatraz,’ or something. And this was the same trip where I nearly fell out of a tree trying to help some sick-looking sparrow, so the name kind of just stuck?”

“And now you’re the Falcon." 

Sam chuckles, his breath soft against the skin of her thigh, and she flinches, as if it tickled. It’s hard to imagine the Black Widow as ticklish. “Yeah, first time I told Riley that story he and I laughed our asses off. Said I was a real birdman now.” 

“Mmm.” Natasha grabs the collar of his shirt, pulls him up and into a kiss. Foreheads pressed together, she whispers “And how good are birds at holding their breath?”

Sam smiles and gets right back to what he was doing before. 

-

He wakes up and she’s gone, but at least she gave warning this time, something about needing to take an early plane to Istanbul on Hill’s orders. 

Stepping out of the shower, Sam looks in the mirror, thinks _I am a soldier_ , and smiles to himself. 

-

The fifth (or is it sixth?) time Natasha comes to him he and Steve have just returned to Stark Tower victorious, Bucky in tow (and, hurt, confused, and sarcastic, he is most _definitely_ Bucky). 

Sam’s settling into his Stark-designed _suite_ when she appears, obviously fresh off some sort of undercover mission, civilian clothes making her look soft where she’s usually all sharp edges. 

(Of course, at this point Sam understands that Natasha Romanoff is far more than just sharp edges.) 

“Hey,” she says, quiet, careful, and Sam wonders if she has blood on her fingernails, like she did last time. 

“Hey,” he replies, and since he’s probably the most tired he’s ever been in his life, instead of reaching for the buttons of her blouse or worrying if he ought to go brush his teeth he just pats the space next to him on the couch. “There’s a _Back to the Future_ marathon on right now.” 

So they pile up the blankets and pillows and watch Marty McFly get increasingly frustrated with Doc’s life decisions, and, predictably, Sam’s the one who passes out first.

-

Sam wakes up, and Natasha is biting gently at his hipbone, hair messy and eyes playful. Before she moves down any further he says, still blinking away sleep, “I’ve still never seen _It’s A Wonderful Life_.”

Nat looks up, shrugs, says “I always thought it was corny,” and then moves to press her lips to the tip of his cock. 

- 

The first time he goes to her is also the moment he realizes that he’s stopped counting. It’s after this ridiculously big battle, filled with aliens and big guns and awe-inspiring acts of heroism (you know, the _usual_ ). And Sam’s tired, but the second he gets a bandage on that nasty cut on his arm and is reassured by medical that while the black eye might not look pretty, he’s pretty much fine, he goes to her rooms, knocks on the door and takes her lack of response as a _yes_ , because, well, that’s what it usually is.

She’s curled up on the bed, and doesn’t look surprised to see him. She does, however, look painfully small, and Sam has to take a moment to remind himself that this is the woman who just took out half an alien fleet and could probably kill him with her pinky finger.

“How’s the arm?”

He shrugs. “Had worse. How’s--well, I didn’t actually see you get hit, and there are currently no visible injuries, so maybe I should just go for how are you?”

“I’ve had worse,” and the look in her eyes _definitely_ serves as a good reminder that she can kill him with her pinky finger.

His next words are chosen carefully, not blurted out like all of his other confessions. “You know, the last time I cried was at Riley’s funeral. It was while I was handing his mother the flag.”

Nat nods. “Last time I cried was when Clint dragged me out to see _Black Swan_.”

Sam puts his hand down on the bed, a tentative offer, and when Natasha starts tracing the lines in his palm he asks “You mean the Hot Ballerina Movie?”

She flinches, but not in a way that means he’s said the wrong thing. “Let’s just say that taking me to the ballet would not be a very good first date.” Her fingers move up from his palm, choose to concentrate on his wrists instead. 

_God_ it feels good, having her touch him. “So what would be a good first date?”

She looks up at him, smiles. “Feeling brave, Wilson?”

“Well, we did just save the entire city of New York from--what were those scaly blue things called? After that everything else seems pretty minor.”

“In that case,” Nat’s hand moves back down to his own, and, shit, they’re _holding hands_ , “I’d say a pretty good first date would be me practically attacking you for what I’d planned to be mindless sex and you interrupting with a story about some Joseph Ludwig just as things were starting to get good.” 

Sam snorts. “That counts as a date? And you remember Joseph Ludwig?”  


“I remember everything,” Nat says, “and that was definitely a date.”

Oh.

-

The next morning, Sam steps out of the shower, looks in the mirror, and smiles to himself, because, damn it, he was right.

Natasha Romanoff was _not_ a one-night stand. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> so, for more info on military funerals you can go here: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Military_funerals_in_the_United_States
> 
> Essentially what Sam was referencing was the handing of a specially folded flag to the deceased's next of kin during military funerals, as a way of thanking them for their service
> 
> and more info on the Birdman of Alcatraz, who is totally real and totally scarred me as a young child hearing about his crimes during my own tour of Alcatraz during a school trip (let's just say the prison's audio tour was really intense) here: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Robert_Stroud
> 
> (don't judge me for posting links to wikipedia articles I'm lazy shush)
> 
> (thanks for reading you can find me on tumblr as castielus)


End file.
